Monster
by OneMillionandOneKisses
Summary: "Why is the seduction of the psychopath so powerful? Because it is the art of the con wrapped in the beautiful illusion of love." Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. One Direction.
1. Monster

p data-p-id="83e7389e2437c41fb9347d29b65cd919"emI'm friends with the monster that's under my bed. Get along with the voices inside of my head. You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath. /em/p  
p data-p-id="e80bc9bb12780fd7dd04358248464ce7"emYou think I'm crazy, yeah you think I'm crazy./em/p  
p data-p-id="e584de3de4736f65a667970505797430"emWell that's not/emem fair!/em/p  
p data-p-id="8bd86688c0a328f5f1dbda36561bcf4f"em~Monster, Eminem ft Rhianna/em/p 


	2. Chapter 1

Harry drummed his fingers on his desk in boredom as he kept his eyes glued into the screen in front of him in attempt to keep himself from falling asleep. It was barely eight-thirty in the morning and the teen was having a challenging time keeping his eyelids from drooping downwards. The freedom that came with going to college was finally taking a toll on him. It was only the first day and he already felt like his head was going to explode.

Harry watched as the stout professor gathered his papers and stacked them on the podium before turning around to scribble his name on the monitor in the front of the room. The writing wasn't really legible, so the green-eyed man assumed he had written _Dr_. _C. Myn._ He chuckled softly to himself, causally glancing around the classroom to see if someone else picked up on the name.

They haven't.

The other thirty-plus people were no different from him, eyes wandering and mind drifting into space. He guessed it was an off day for everyone. Maybe it had something to do with the dreary weather. The campus hadn't seen the break of sunlight since moving day and it was really bringing down the students spirits. Harry, however, found other ways to channel his gloom.

His eyes land to the small case lying on the floor by his foot.

"Okay, I think I'm ready to start class now," The professor clapped his hands together causing Harry to jump in his seat, "Good morning, everyone. I'm Dr. Calvin Myn and this is Psychology 101. I'm sure that you're aware of that now, so let's skip the appetizer and go straight into dinner."

The hefty man chuckled at his own joke and glanced around to see if anyone caught on to it. All he received back was eyes glazed with boredom. Sighing, the old man scratched at his balding head and furrowed his eyebrows at the dead class.

"Anyway," he continued, "Normally, I would start the semester off by divulging into the different branches of psychology, the perspectives, and significant people, but this time I want to try something different."

Professor Myn smiled, "I want to get a clue about what you guys know about psychology. What pops into your head when you hear anything dealing with psychology used in popculture? More importantly, what does it mean to both you and society?"

Harry silently scoffed to himself hating that he had to take the class even though it had absolutely nothing to do with his major. He hated having to think analytically and having to share his thoughts with the class. Well he hated sharing his thoughts in class period. It just gave others an opportunity to judge you more so than they probably already do.

He trained his eyes on his notebook to avoid eye contact with the professor. He didn't want to be volunteered to answer the question. It seemed to work in grade school so there was a good chance that it would work again.

Harry slightly squirmed in his seat when no one answered. He knew what was coming next. He was in the front row, in the first seat, directly in front of the professor. In that moment the dark haired boy wished that he would have been like everyone else and chose a seat far away from the front. The thought of being in the line of fire when the professor began to shoot out questions never crossed his mind.

Chancing a look at Dr. Myn, Harry noticed that the man's glass framed eyes were not focused on him. Instead, it focused on the only other poor soul sharing the front row with him. The boy looked to be around his age, if not a few years older.

He was just like everyone else. His body was clad in a hoodie colored in a depressive shade and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big. Faint circles, almost the color of a bruise, rung around his deep blue eyes. His expression was cold and hard. From the looks of it he wasn't any more enthused about being under the line of fire as Harry.

"Well," the professor grinned mischievously before crossing his arms in front of his thick chest, "Tomlinson, it's nice to see you. _Again._ "

He cast a smug look at the boy as he watched him shift uncomfortably in his seat. Harry instantly felt bad as everyone in the room shifted their attention to the guy that clearly wanted to be invisible to the world.

Tomlinson, Harry assumed was his name, looked away from the professor and began to scribble on his notebook. He could tell that the boy was trying to block out Dr. Myn. His teeth were grinding together as the big man waddled over in his space.

"So, Tomlinson, what comes to mind when you think about psychology in terms of popculture? Something should come up since this is your second time around."

The boy shrugged his shoulders, not really looking at the man. His body was visibly tensed at the close proximity of the man. Harry noticed that he was slowly bowing up like a deadly snake preparing to strike. His hands tightened around the pencil he practically stabbed holes in the cover of his notebook.

Feeling sorry for him, Harry combed his fingers through his hair and mentally cursed at himself for what he was about to do.

"Romanticism," the eighteen year old answered, looking down at the little black case propped up against his feet, "I think about Hollywood romanticising mental disorders in order to make a buck or two off of middle-aged women who fantasize about things they can't have once mid-life crisis begins."

The class kind of chuckled at they last part of his comment. Dr. Myn snapped his gaze from the victimized boy and focused on Harry. He wanted to slink down in his seat under the man's heavy gaze, but he didn't back down. He wanted to pull the professor's attention from the Tomlinson fellow to give him a break.

"Continue," Dr. Myn encouraged.

Harry gulped feeling the eyes of the class staring him down expectantly, "Hollywood has glorified and highlighted certain aspects of psychology. Take psychopathy, for instance. Movies have made mental disorders all dreamy and cookie-cutter to appeal to audiences, but it also managed to leave impressionable minds thinking that Stockholm Syndrome or whatever is cool." He twisted his index finger around in his hands, not really sure if he answered the question right. Judging by the expression on Dr. Myn's face he guessed that it would be safe to assume that he did. The man looked genuinely impressed with his response.

"Interesting," He mumbled, offering Harry a slight smile.

"I agree with what he said," A girl sitting a few seats behind him added. Harry glanced over his shoulder at the brunette and gave her a soft smile in thanks, "I absolutely hate _Twilight_. I mean, it's obvious that Bella has some sort of mental disorder because she became completely obsessed over an vampire and his entire family. I get that it was made for entertainment purposes and that it is based on fiction, but I have a problem with little kids seeing that a girl can fall in love with some dead guy, have a baby, and live happily ever after. Hollywood had just romanticized Necrophilia. That's like...totally disgusting!"

Dr. Myn nodded, "So how does romanticizing psychological disorders, mental or physical, effect society as a whole. Not just impressionable children?"

Harry began to tune the conversation out at this point. He had already did his good deed for the day, he was ready to mentally check out until it was time for the class to end. He couldn't really focus anyway. His fingers were itching to do something creative and it was causing him to become a little jittery. He had to stifle a yawn that was bubbling in his throat. He was ready to focus his attention on something else.

Hesitantly, Harry turned to get another glance at the Tomlinson boy sitting not too far from him. He thought that the fellow was actually quite attractive in a unique way. There was something...different about him that had reeled in his interests.

Harry took in how distant the boy was. Though his body was in the room physically, his mind was somewhere far off. There that empty look in his eye that comes with several nights of improper sleep. He seemed to be staring at everything yet nothing at all. Intense blue eyes met Harry's bright green ones causing the latter to offer him a tiny smile. It was not returned. The Tomlinson kid frowned, slightly tilting his head to the side as if he were trying to figure the tall boy out.

He simply stared at Harry.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and turned back around a little freaked out concluding that he was just weird. All through the rest of class he could feel the other boy's eyes on him occasionally. However, whenever he turn to meet his gaze, his eyes would be trained in front of him staring out into space.

It went like that until the end of class. When Dr. Myn released them, everyone scattered out of the room still in heavy debate about how Hollywood romanticised certain aspects of psychology. Harry found the parts that he listen to quite entertaining. It was a good topic. However, his concentration was focused on someone else.

Harry stood back as everyone exited the room and waited for the mysterious boy to pack all of his things into his bag. He deliberately took his time as he waited for everyone to exit the room so he could leave. Dr. Myn followed behind the college students that were filing out of the classroom with his cell phone pressed upon his ear. Harry glanced back to make sure that everyone was gone before he hesitantly approached the guy. His flight instincts kicked in overdrive warning him to follow the rest, but he ignored all rationale. He slowly made his way to the shorter boy fiddling with his backpack and shyly tapped him on the shoulder.

The boy's body stiffened under the light touch of Harry's hand. He quickly coiled his arm away from the lad before turning around with a deep frown etched across his face. Harry took a step back at the intensity of the other boy's harsh gaze. His eyes were narrowed and his expression was harsher than it was before. Harry quickly pulled his hand back and clasped them behind his back in fright of the other ripping his hand from his arm due to the action. He offered him a small smile for the second time that day only for it to go by unreturned once again.

"Hi," Harry began slowly rocking on the balls of his feet nervously under the other male's awkward gaze, "I'm...um...Harry. I just wanted to say hello, uh, I guess?" He was extremely nervous. The other boy didn't say anything back. He simply stared at Harry, assessing every small movement he made. Harry was beginning to become uncomfortable. He scratched the back of his neck out as he fished for something else to say to fill the awkward silence, "You're Tomlinson, right?"

Nothing.

"I'm guessing that your name," he chuckled nervously, "That's what the professor called you, I think. Dr. C. Myn. Get it? It's like semen. Funny, yeah?"

The boy just stared at him blankly. Harry shifted a bit. He looked down at his well-worn shoes and shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe it's just humorous to me. I have a weird sense of humor. Well, that's what my friends tell me anyway. I don't think it's that weird, they just don't know how to appreciate good jokes. Believe it or not, I think that jokes are an art. Not everyone can be funny on the spot. I'm rambling now, aren't I. Wait, what was we talking about again?"

When Harry looked up, a frown etched its way on his face and his mouth slightly opened. He was in the room alone. There wasn't a trace of the boy anywhere in the room. He glanced around the room checking to see if the boy was still lurking around somewhere. He did not hear him leave. It was weird. It was almost as if he was never there.

Frowning, Harry glanced around his surroundings once more before deciding that the other boy was long gone. It was weird. The boy was extremely strange, but there was something about him that caught Harry's attention. He didn't know why, but his interest in the loner suddenly peaked. He found himself becoming more and more curious about the him the more he thought about his abnormal ways.

It was curiosity that killed the cat.

Right?


End file.
